Sweetest Perfection
by Grey Wolf of Xanthus
Summary: Draco is just sitting in class thinking. Dephece Mode Lyrics. Slash


**Sweetest Perfection**

Dedicated to: Ashley. There is a little Depeche Mode everywhere; you just have to look hard enough to find it.

Disclaimer: I'll burn in hell yet for writing slash suitable for children and corrupting them thusly. The people used in here all belong to Rowling, who would have a stroke if she knew what I do to them. I can't use the "hey they where acting gay to begin with" because this is not Lord of the rings. Come on I mean really Samwise is like so gay. I have gaydar for crying out loud (it's like radar but it only works with gay people, I knew Will Young was gay, in fact I had a fanfic planned long before he announced it but I never wrote it, if only I did…). Anyways the lyrics are from the great, wonderful, beautiful, loveably, awesome Depeche Mode. The ground under their feet should be worshipped. Yes they are my favorite band in the world. I have a lot of favorite songs but they are my favorite band.  

Note: Mmm a Draco fiction. I like these. Draco loves but he must hide it for fear of what his father and everyone else might think of it. He is sitting in class and finds it hard to control his feelings.

Oh and this is not turning into another Insomnia. This is a once off thing okay?

* * *

_The sweetest perfection_

_To call my own_

_The slightest correction_

_Couldn't finely hone_

_The sweetest infection_

_Of body and mind_

_Of any kind_

Snape is droning on and on about the proper use of the (yes you guest it) dexterity potions we where gonna be brewing. As on cue the Mudblood's hand shot up and a soft groan escaped half, if not more, of the class's lips. If in six years she haven't learned that Snape is ignoring her on purpose then she will never and that would mean she is not as clever as every one thinks she is. How I would love it to see Voldemort kill her and that Weasely. They both stand in my way. Both hinder me in my attempts to claim my prize. 

_I stop and I stare too much_

_Afraid that I care too much_

_And I hardly dare to touch_

_For fear that the spell may be broken_

_When I need a drug in me_

_Then I want the real thing not tokens_

My eyes seek him out without my consent and I gazed at him longingly. His dark hair; standing up in protest, daring any comb or brush to try and flatten it. His pale flesh; begging to be warmed and kisses and colored by sweet touches. His green eyes; the fires burning in hate for me, silently burn their desire to be concurred. Oh it is enough to drive any man mad. But I dare not reach out for him; I will not show my weakness. Even though I am addicted to his sweet face and his words, however angry or filled with hate for me. He is a spell that has been placed upon me, a bewitchment become flesh and I long but I will not acted.

_Things you'd expect to be_

_Having effect on me_

_Pass undetectedly _

_But everyone knows what has got me_

_Takes me completely_

_Reaches so deeply_

_I know that nothing can stop me_

That I have hidden it so well is remarkable. No one, not even that nosy Mudblood knows of my feelings for our dear mister Potter. People only see the bastard and not the heart beneath the act. Sure I have been pretty nasty to Potter and played some hell of a lot of nasty ticks on him, but he is my supposed rival, my archenemy. I can't just be nice to him, people might guess my feelings and then? My father would never accept it. 

I have to hide my feelings so deeply that when I relies them only for a moment I feel so overwhelmed that I break down and cry for the mere hopelessness of my situation.   

_Sweetest perfection_

_An offer was made_

_An assorted collection_

_But I wouldn't trade_

I could have anyone I want; anyone would love to be mine, to be entitled to the Malfoy millions. Anyone but Harry. He doesn't want me and he doesn't feel for me. I would give up everything for him, but still he wouldn't want me. He could care less if I'm happy or not. He is so perfect, so beautiful and wonderful and good that I will never stand a chance and thus though my body aches for him and my heart longs to be his, I must forget about ever having him for myself. He will never love me and I must learn to live without my Sweetest Perfection, my Harry. It is foolish to hope for love but oh I have never hoped more…

_Takes me complelty _

_Touches so sweetly_

_Reaches so deeply_

_Nothing can stop me._

My dreams are filled with him, sweet dreams in which he understands me and loves me. I treasure them and hold then close to my heart. I know in the waking world he will never be near me but thank all that wants to be thanked for the dreams. They keep me from acting on my feelings. They wrap my so kindly and sweetly that I can not act out. I only hope that this remains the case and that my dreams cloud over reality. The results of that could be dire…


End file.
